CHAPTER 7: BURN BETWEEN THE BONDS

“You’re going to regret that,” Fenric whispers in my ear, and his deep voice sounds like tease, sliding straight down my spine.

I shove him again, my breath coming fast, but it’s not from anger this time, it’s from the ache that's building inside me, so sharp and hot and nearly unbearable.

My skin burns again, tingling under the thin fabric of my nightgown, and the scent of them all, so musk, raw and overwhelming, wraps around me.

I gasp, pressing my thighs together again, hoping to try and hold in the heat.

... But it doesn’t work, if anything, it makes it worse.

Suddenly a needy whimper escapes my throat before I can stop it, and all three of them freeze in place.

Nyall stiffens, Fenric’s smirk deepens, and Orien just breathes my name.

“Iryn…”

“No,” I croak, curling into myself.

“Don’t come any closer. Please.”

I try to sound firm so they'll leave me alone, but my plea just sounds pathetic, breathless and soaked in need— and Goddess they smell it.

Fenric is the first to move again, he reaches out to grab my ankle, but Nyall slaps his hand away with a snarl.

“She said no.”

“She didn’t mean it,” Fenric snaps, keeping his eyes locked on me.

“She’s dripping, Nyall. I can smell it.”

I flinch at that, and then Orien ,still beside me, quietly moves to a kneeling position at the edge of the bed.

My eyelids flutter as he leans toward me, and I see his silver eyes are full of... concern.

... Lust too yes, but just under it is... should I call it gentle?

It seems tender.

“Iryn,” he says softly, “you’re hurting.”

I blink at him, my throat feeling so dry. “I— I know.”

“We can help,” he says. “Just a little touch from us will be enough to ease the heat.”

Beside me, Nyall is already reaching for the oil that I rejected from Orien, collecting it and pouring some into his palms.

Then the scent of lavender and musk floods the room again.

“I’ll use the calming blend,” he murmurs. “Let me soothe you. We won't claim you or knot you yet; just this.”

However I shake my head at him, my voice trembling just as badly as my limbs.

“I can’t… if you touch me, I’ll… I’ll lose control.”

“We’ll stop,” Orien promises, crawling closer to me. “We swear.”

But I just shake my head harder at him, at them; they don’t understand.

They don’t feel the way this bond rips through me, making me feel so wild and starved, pulsing so strongly.

I’m an Omega barely holding on by threads, and I have three Alpha mates pulling on every part of me.

It’s too much...

Fenric doesn’t care, though, he’s already gotten behind me now, his heat blanketing my back while his lips brush my neck, just barely grazing the skin there.

“You’re sweating,” he growls, his voice so thick with want.

“I can taste your scent in the air, little Omega. Don’t fight it.”

“Stop,” I whisper, but my back arches backwards against him anyway.

“Just a little more,” Orien says, now close to my feet.

Then he pulls the silk sheets completely off my legs gently and strokes the top of my thigh with the back of his knuckles.

Nyall settles beside me and presses his oiled fingers to my temple, massaging me gently and repeatedly till I start to feel the tension in my body melt.

It's just for a moment, but it's just long enough for my lips to part and my lashes to flutter.

Then bond pulses again, hard and violently, completely rejecting the calm of the soothing oil.

Moon... Goddess.

It hits me again so hard that it feels like lightning in my veins.

Every part of me is drawn to them, wanting them to the point that I just want to touch all three of them at the same time.

Is that possible?

I'm not sure, but it's what I feel, and then I let out a whimper, shivering as Nyall keeps up with his hand movement.

“You’re glowing,” Orien whispers, looking at me in awe.

“Do you feel that, too?”

“I can’t… breathe,” I choke, my chest rising and falling too fast.

In response, Nyall’s hand moves to my shoulder, rubbing the oil in with slow strokes.

Orien presses soft kisses to the inside of my knee, and Fenric’s fingers— Goddess help me— slide up the inside of my thigh, hovering just an inch too close to my clenching core.

I cry out, trembling violently, and all three of them stop to take in a deep breath.

“She’s close,” Fenric growls.

“So fucking close.”

“Back off,” Nyall snaps, but even his voice is so tight and rough.

“Let her decide,” I hear Orien say, but I don't do that, I don't make any decision.

How can I?

I'm not thinking straight right now; their scents slam into me again— dark cedar, scorched spice and wild pine, and my womb clenches, sending slick flooding out from my core, hot and humiliating.

“I can’t—” I rasp, then gasp, my hips buckling on its own, aching and itching for their touch.

“It’s too much— too much—”

Nyall presses his forehead to mine. “Then let go mate.”

"Mmmhmm" I whimper.

That’s the problem; If I let go, I won’t stop.

If I let them touch me— really touch me the way I'm yearning, the way they're looking at me now--- I’ll be ruined.

... I'll be claimed, all of me will be theirs, and I’m not ready for that.

Goddess, how can I be when I don’t even know who I am anymore?

A broken sob escapes from my lips, and I twist away from them, shoving myself up from the bed.

Fenric grabs my wrist immediately, dragging me towards him, and I instinctively walk the remaining inched towards him, rubbing my face on his chest.

... And I feel it vibrate as he growls, “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Away,” I say, breathless and trembling, digging my fingers into my palms to stop myself from touching him, or running to pull Nyall and Orien close.

I want them in a very strange way but...

“I need to get away. I need to breathe.”

“You’re in no state to—” Nyall begins to say moving towards me but I scream, yanking my arm free from Fenric's grip.

“I said I need to get out!”

All three of them stop, feeling very stunned by my scream---- I feel it through the bond, and just then, the bond surges through my chest, However I force myself to move.

My legs are wobbly, my body’s soaked in heat and desire and shame, but I stumble to the door, yank it open, and run.

... Down the unfamiliar hallway, past the stunned guards, and out into the freezing night air.

The cold slams into me immediately I step out, stealing my breath from my lungs, but I welcome it.

In fact I gulp it down; It clears the haze from my heat and calms the fever burning in my veins.

Up above me in the sky, the moon glows, casting its silver light over the yard and I drop to my knees on the dewy grass, pressing my hands into the earth.

“I’m not ready,” I whisper, looking up at the moon.

“I’m not ready to be theirs.”

But the bond is still there, thrumming deep inside me and so are my mates---- behind me, I hear their growls of frustration.